Another day ~ another birthday!

“Another day, another dollar,” is my all-time favorite saying when someone inquires how am I doing.  It just seems to be a good answer, especially when I am heading to work and I’ve stopped by the mini-mart to get my usual soda pop.  I just have to have some caffeine in the mornings, as do my coffee drinking friends.

However, I recently had another birthday.  I might have just as well turned 70 so that I could get that over with!  Get it out of the way.  Now, I am sixty-nine and holding, albeit inching toward that 70 mark.  Like any other lady friend I might know, I wish to look to be in my 30s or maybe 40s; not 70, but I’m not sure what we’re supposed to look like when we turn 70 years of age.  Do you?

My hair is graying, getting thinner, and my body keeps getting fluffier.  I am to believe it is because I am not exercising.  I told my husband the other day in Academy Sports that I wanted a new bicycle; one with all the bells and whistles and gears and such.    The bicycle I am now riding is very similar to the one I had as a child; just a handlebar, peddles and brakes.  The one I was looking at in Academy, had no fenders.  That wouldn’t be a problem to me, although my husband said the bad thing about those bicycles is that when the road is wet, the water is thrown up on you.  Well, if that’s not the craziest thing I’ve ever heard.  Who in their right mind at 69 years of age is going to ride their bicycle when the road is wet.  For the road to be wet, that would have to mean that it had been raining, and I’m wondering who rides their bike in the rain?  I caught on pretty fast; he just didn’t want to spend the $200 for my new bike!  After forty-nine years of marriage, I’ve got this one figured out pretty well.

I am also inching myself closer to leaving my job, AKA “retirement,” and I hate that word for me.  I deplore that word.  I didn’t work for nearly seven years after caring for my Mother for two years, and I feel like I’ve had my “golden” years of retirement.  I still want to wake up and have a meaningful purpose to jump out of bed (assuming the Aleve pill has entered the blood stream during the night) and the planters facetious has not struck my feet again.  Just my thoughts, only; my personal feelings.  I don’t feel the need to tell everyone I’m retired, when they ask, that’s all.

If I live to be 70, I will continue to count each day as a Blessing because nothing is for sure and I taking nothing for granted.  Remember, “life is not measured by the breaths you take, but by the moments that take your breath away.”

Until next time.

XO

GolfinGal’